Well shit.

What should have been a normal day at Milky’s dairy, has soon become a hotspot for what could be the biggest scene in the history of Trottingham.

Here you are, standing at the entrance of the Dairy, face to face with your Mother and Father. Two people who you do NOT want to be right in front of you at this moment. Their gaze alternates between you, and the mare that you have spent the last two weeks with, looking upon the both of you with simultaneous suspicious and judgmental eyes. Milky is still behind the counter; they cannot see her special talent(s) yet.

Milky goes back to serving the customers, while you stand silently with your parents. It’s lucky for the both of you, that the morning rush is going to end in a few minutes. Right now, though, you should speak up.

“Dad? Mom? What are you doing here?”

“We came to see you, of course.” your Father says, “Wanted to see what has been keeping you from coming back home.”

“I’m…” you think, “I’m still on vacation, remember? Besides, it’s not like my landlord is getting sick of looking at an empty apartment. I don’t think, anyway.”

“I thought you were using your vacation time to see the world…” you Mother interjects, “Not just stay in one place.”

“Yeah, but…it’s kind of nice here.”

Your parents get a good look at your appearance, gasping at the black eye you have developed from last night’s beating. Mom puts a hand out to inspect it.

“What happened to you? Did you get into a fight?”

“No, Mom.” you lean back, refusing to let her touch you, “I fell and hit my head pretty bad. Don’t worry I’m fine. I’ve had worse. You would know.” You put a good amount of venom in those last words.

They either ignore it, or are good at not showing their emotions, as they both glance over at Milky, who is finishing up with the last of the customers.

“Is that the girl from the picture?” Mom asks, in an uncomfortable tone, “She seems rather…homely.” She already doesn’t like Milky. That was to be expected, though.

“Yes, Mom.” you say in annoyance, “It’s the girl.” You're about to correct her about that ‘homely’ crack, but you refrain from speaking further. You look back at Milky, then at your Parents. “Excuse me for a second.”

You walk over to Milky, and lean down to her.

“Are those your parents?” she asked in a hushed tone.

“Yeah.”

“Oh my. They don’t look happy with me.”

You see the disapproving glance they are giving you and Milky. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What do we do?”

“They don’t know about…us. For the time being, just play along, okay?”

“Okay.” she motions to her teats, “What about these?”

“Get an apron, and hide them. I don’t want to shock them just yet.”

“Gotcha.” She gets an apron from underneath the counter, wrapping it around her waist, perfectly covering her mammaries. “You should probably get back to talking to them, they could start getting suspicious.”

“Will you be okay with the customers?”

“Hey, I’ve survived this long without you. I think I can manage.” she smirks.

“Alright.” you lean in close to her ear, “Whatever happens…I love you.” you whisper.

“Ditto.” she smiles.

You stand, and go back to the waiting Mom and Dad. They look at you with raised eyebrows.

“What was that about?” Dad asks, “You were over there for quite a while.”

“She was wondering who I was talking to. I was just letting her know.”

“How much does she know about us?” Mom wonders.

“Nothing specific.” you lie to them, “It’s um…surprising to see you here. You could have just called, you know.”

“Knowing you, we figured you’d still be here.” Mom says.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your Mom is saying that you can be easily…swayed into things.”

Oh no. They are NOT doing this in front of everybody and everypony here. You shake your head, and do what you can to change the topic of conversation as quickly as possible.

“Well, it’s…nice to see you. I guess.” Saying the word nice in conjunction with your parents makes your stomach turn. “Do you…um…want to have dinner with us? Show you around town?”

“Us?” Dad says, “She’ll be coming with us?” he looks over at Milky.

“Why not? She’s my friend.” You are adamant about bringing her along.

Your Mom and Dad look at each other. They look like they want to say no, but you’re not going to have any of it if they did. They turn back to you, and nod with much hesitancy. You give out a hopeful smile, just as Milky finishes with the last customer. She walks up to your side, giving you a poke on the hip to let you know she’s next to you.

“Oh, hey.” you say, “Mom? Dad? This is my friend, Milky Way.”

“Nice to meet you.” she says happily, holding out a hoof for a shake. Your Father nervously shakes it. At least he’s showing some semblance of manners, despite that look on his face, suggesting that he’s reaching into a clogged toilet. “So, what’s happening?”

“We’re going to go out to a nice dinner.”

“Oh, how lovely.” Milky smiles, “We should make a stop off at home first. Don’t want to look like I just got off work.” she chuckles, “I’m sure you’d want to get ready, yourself.”

“Wait…home?” Mom nearly snips, “You’re living with her?”

“Uh…” you stammer. You don’t know how to tell the story without sounding like you're in a relationship with her.

“Yes.” Milky interjects. You can see your Parents nostrils flare up; you hope Milky has a plan. “The hotel he was staying at had a bit of a bug problem, and the others around here were busy during the holiday we had last week. Lucky, I had a room for rent, and allowed him to stay over for the time being.”

That’s a good story. You nod to Milky your thanks. She returns the gesture with her own nod. Your Parents still aren’t pleased with the tale.

“That should have been a sign to move on elsewhere, son.” says Dad in a rude tone.

“It was nice here. I wanted to stay longer.” You don’t want to argue with them right now, or ever, for that matter. “Come on. I’ll take you to Milky’s.”

The two of you guide your parents to Milky’s house. Upon opening the door, you let Milky in first, then yourself, and then your parents. Your lead them over to the couch and the living room. When they sit down, you reminisce about that couch’s history. It was the first place you and Milky had sex. It takes your all not to snicker, as they shift about on the mattress.

They look over at the broken table.

“What happened there?” asked Dad.

“That’s what I hit my head on. Tripped over on the carpet in the middle of the night. Nasty business, that was. Milky was nice enough to help me out.” You love to take opportunities to let others know how great Milky is. That makes you feel good on the inside.

“You should have gone to the doctor. I don’t want any ponies touching our boy.” snides Mother.

“Pony doctors exist, you know.”

“I only trust human doctors, with hands and fingers. None of those dirty looking hooves. Trotting on the ground all day. Disgusting. I don’t even trust unicorn doctors, either.” There’s no end to her rudeness. You shake it off, forgetting she even opened her mouth.

Just then, you hear Milky call you from her room. She sounds strained. You excuse yourself, and walk into the bedroom as fast as humanly possible, getting away from them for a few precious moments, and find Milky hunched down on the floor, with a look of discomfort.

“What’s the matter? You aren’t in heat again, are you?” You’re really not in the mood for some spontaneous sex, as incredible as that sounds.

“No, nothing like that. I…haven’t been milked yet.” she says. You almost hit yourself; forgetting that Milky normally had to be milked before closing time at the dairy. She must have been holding it in for the past hour.

“Just relax, I’ll be back in a few seconds with the bucket.”

“Hurry.” she whimpers, “I can’t hold it for much longer.”

You hurry out of the bedroom, past your parents, into the kitchen, and you take the bucket from the cabinet. Your parents notice you now carrying a rather large bucket in your hand.

“What’s with the bucket?” Dad queries.

“There’s a big spider in Milky’s room. She doesn’t want me to kill it, so I’m going to trap it, and throw it out the window.” Good lie, and from the looks on their faces, they buy it hook line and sinker. They motion to you to hurry up and get rid of it, and you do so at lightning speed. You run into the bedroom, shut the door, set the bucket down, and get to milking the Milkmare.

“Ooohhh, that feels good.” she sighs out of comfort, putting a hoof on your shoulder.

“Sorry for being so late.” you apologize, “I almost forgot. It won’t happen again.”

“Don’t worry. You were so caught up with your parents being here. I don’t blame you. How is it going out there?”

“Terrible. Dad is being rude, and Mom is as racist as always. I put them on the couch that we had sex on.” The two of you giggle like mischievous school children. “Frankly, I’m more worried about you. Are you going to be okay?” you ask.

“I could ask you the same thing.” she chortles, “What are we going to tell them?”

“I don’t know. I was planning on sending them a letter, or talk with them over the phone, but not THIS soon. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous.”

“It’ll be fine.” she gives you a kiss on the cheek, “If they get out of line with you, I’ll straighten them out.”

“And if they get out of line with YOU, I’ll be doing the straightening out.” you smile. The two of you lean in for a brief kiss, before you hear the voice of Dad calling out to you.

“You get rid of that spider, yet?” He almost sounds impatient.

“Yeah! I’ll be out in a second!” you yell back, mad that he interrupted one of your kisses with Milky. You caress her cheek. “I’ll let you get ready.”

“I won’t be long.” she smirks, “Good luck.”

You leave the bucket in the room, as you allow Milky to freshen up for the night on the town. You go back to your parents, letting them know that the spider has been taken care of, and you’re going to go off and brush your hair. Have to look presentable for tonight, and all.

It takes a good fifteen minutes for you and Milky to get ready to go. Milky has put on a simple yet lovely red dress, accentuating her body, but perfectly covering her assets. It makes your look seem lazy by comparison. All you did was slick your hair back, and put on a nice jacket for the cold weather outside.

The two of you discuss where to take your parents, and the one place that seemed like the best idea was the Appleloosa Bar and Grill. It’s got plenty of human friendly food, and you have to admit, the company inside is nice and sociable.

A quick (yet silent) walk later, and you all arrive. You do the honors and reserve a seat. Looking back at the parents, you can see them examining the place with a look of mild curiosity, and unpleasantness. They especially do not like that they spy a human and pony couple sitting together, looking upon one another with love and tenderness. Your father asks to leave and go someplace else, but you stand your ground, and tell him that it’s a common sight to see in the town (something that your Mother annoyingly told you two weeks ago). You tell him to ignore it if he feels uncomfortable.

The four of you are seated, and as you wait for your server, the owner of the place, who you recognize as the guy that hosted that fateful karaoke night, comes walking on by. He spots you, and flashes a wide smile, recognizing you instantaneously. He walks on over to your table with a confident strut.

“Howdy, ya’ll!” he says with a friendly tone, “Fancy seeing you two again so soon! I must say, that was some mighty impressive singing.”

“It was nothing.” you say with a chuckle.

“And who are these fine folks?” he turns to your parents.

“Those are my parents.”

“My goodness. Well, being the parents of such a fine gentleman, is there anything you need?”

“Yeah. Can we have a human waiter?” you Mom blurts out. Your stomach nearly falls out of you in embarrassment.

The Owner looks back at you. He could see the racial undertones from two thousand miles away. Using your gift of facial gestures, you let him know that yes, your parents are a bunch of racist assholes. He puts on his best smile, as he turns back to you Mother.

“Of course, Ma’am. We tend to oblige with any and all requests.”

As he walks away, you turn to see him stop a unicorn waitress in her tracks, whispering something in her ear. No doubt, telling her to move on to another table. You feel really bad for the poor mare, but you endure.

“You didn’t tell us you sang.” Dad catches your attention back to him.

You look at the faces of your parents and are shocked to see a look of genuine curiosity, and a little bit of pride. The parents that they once were glimmer ever so briefly before you. That’s why you have to lie to them, yet again.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t very good.” you wave it off with a chuckle.

“What did you sing?” Mom asks.

“Just some Metallica song. I really did a mediocre job at it.”

“I thought you were pretty good.” Milky smiles.

All eyes turn back to her now. Whatever good mood you set for them, Milky just took that away for merely speaking. Dad clears his throat, readying himself for a Q&A session with this mare.

“So…Milky, was it? What exactly do you do for a living?”

“I own a Dairy. Milky’s Way, just like my name.” she chuckles, they don’t share the same sentiment.

“Okay, but what exactly do you do, that requires our son’s help?”

“Dad, come on.” you try to intervene.

“No, it’s fine.” she assures you, before turning back to your Dad, “My store can be somewhat popular. It’s known as the finest place to get milk in Trottingham. The mornings can get pretty hectic, with a lot of customers trying to barge into my small establishment. Your son here, makes sure that the customers don’t get out of line, and try to storm the place. He also helps with milking my…*ahem* cows, back at the dairy farm outside the town.”

“Why is your milk so popular?” Mom wonders.

“That’s because I…put a little something extra in it, making the taste very sweet. You should try it sometime.” she grins. You chortle silently.

“Thanks, but we’ll pass.” Mom waves off the offer. Oh well, it would have been funny to see.

The human waiter shows up, and you all take your orders. Your Mother, the chicken tenders, your Father, the pork ribs. That cobb salad Milky had looked delicious the last time you saw her ate it, so you ordered that. Milky orders the same. Once the waiter leaves, your parents once again have those suspiciously raised eyebrows.

“Milky…” your Dad speaks, “You do know there’s chicken in that cobb salad, don’t you?”

“Of course.” she says with a grin.

“I thought ponies do not eat meat.”

“Well, we normally don’t. Unlike things like daffodils and salads, we find no real nutritional value of chicken or pork. It doesn’t mean we can’t eat it, or appreciate the taste. Besides, with the lettuce leaves, tomatoes, olives, cucumbers, and the shredded cheese, I think a little chicken isn’t going to do me any harm.”

Dad nods, seemingly in understanding. You look upon her with pride and admiration, impressed that she is holding her own remarkably well with them. She gets up from the seat.

“Sorry, I have to use the restroom.”

“Don’t take too long.” You say, “Don’t want your food getting cold.”

“It’s a salad. How much colder could it get?” she chuckles with a little wave, before disappearing from your sight.

Now it’s just you and your parents. You look back to see their eyes piercing the very fabric of your soul. It’s a little uncomfortable.

“She’s nice, right?” you smirk, hoping that they at least agree with you.

“Who is she to you?” Dad doesn’t waste any time with the questions.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Just what is she to you?” though he’s once again right to mistrust you, the condensation in his tone is enough to make your blood boil.

“She’s just a friend, Dad. Geez, am I not allowed to have pony friends?”

“You two are a little too close to be friends” Mom gives her own opinion.

“You’re just saying that because she’s a girl. We just have things in common. I bet if I brought a colt along, and acted the same, you wouldn’t be like this.”

“No, we’d be worried for entirely different reasons.” says Dad.

“Come on. We brought you here, to this nice place, for a nice dinner. You got your human waiter, what more do you want?”

“We want to know just what the extent of your relationship is with this Milky.” Dad practically growls.

You put your hands up. You are through talking about this, right now. This is not the time or the place to be throwing around snide comments and accusations.

“Okay, no.” you say with defiance, “I am not going to let you cause a scene in this restaurant. You want to look at me with suspicion? Fine. You want to silently judge Milky just for being my friend? Sure, why not? But I am done talking about this, alright? I’m not in the mood.”

Your Parents remain in stunned silence at your refusal to answer their question. At first, it feels good to tell them off, but then the worry takes hold of you. The fact that you refuse to talk about it, maybe have been seen as confirmation that you are involved with Milky. You could tell yourself that you’re just over thinking things, but you remember the last time you did that…and how completely right you were.

Milky returns, and not a moment too soon. She sits back down next to you, just as your food arrives. It looked delicious, just as it always did. Noticing your parents, you could tell that even they thought the food looked rather scrumptious. Your parents mumble a little prayer, thanking the lord for the meal and whatnot, before getting to the chow.

Trying the cobb salad, you find that your instincts were right, and it was really good. You pat Milky on the shoulder in approval at the meal.

Unfortunately, Mother noticed that little pat.

“So, Milky…” Mom swallows her food, “How long have you been in Trottingham?”

“All my life, since I was just a little filly.”

“I see. So, you’re aware of all the customs here, and stuff?”

“Of course.”

“Then tell me, what are your opinions on human and pony relationships?”

You drop your fork on the plate. Not this shit again. You throw a disapproving look at Mom.

“Mom, please.”

“It’s just a simple question, honey. No need to get upset.”

“It’s fine.” she looks at you with assurance, “The thing is…I don’t really have much of an opinion.”

“Why is that?”

“I’ve been living here for so long, that seeing such coupling has been a normal occurrence in my life. Sure, at first it was a little…strange, considering that we’re of a different race, but over time, I sort of…liked it. I mean, if it has been going on since forever, it can’t be all bad, right?”

Mom and Dad chuckle in disbelief. Pandora’s Box has just been opened.

“You poor dear.” Mom snorts, “It’s okay, because you haven’t been properly educated on this, but human and pony relationships are entirely wrong.”

“Why is that?” Milky cocks her head, curious.

“Because…look at you! You’re a bunch of horses, and we’re human. You can't seriously tell me at no point did you find this the least bit offensive.”

If they weren’t your parents, if they were any other ignorant assholes, nothing would stop you from leaping over the table and throttling them. However, you want to know where this is going, as much as it makes your skin crawl from your muscle and bones.

“Well…no. I didn’t. Like I said, I found it odd at first, but offensive? No.”

“Humans and ponies are too different to even consider having such a relationship.” Dad enters the ring, “Sure, you may talk, and have some form of emotions, but you’re still just animals.”

“We could say the same about you humans, but you don’t hear us saying anything.”

Point goes to Milky.

“Yes, but that’s because you creatures are easily corrupted by such vile ideas. There are many reasons why human and pony couplings are a slight against the almighty…” Dad causally points up to the ceiling, “The most obvious being that humans and ponies cannot create life together. Our species are not compatible with one another. Any sort of sacrilegious fornication would just be nothing but another form of bestiality. And you’re telling us that that doesn’t bother you?”

You slowly move your hand to Milky’s thigh, giving it a reassuring, loving squeeze, letting her know to not back down against these people, and that you have her back if they truly get out of line with her. She gives you a subtle smirk, before going back for another round.

“It’s true. We cannot have children or foals together, and that is a little disheartening. But a lot of couples endure with that disadvantage, resorting to adoption. Statistics say that human and pony parents are just as good as parents who are just humans or just ponies.”

“Those statistics are manufactured by orphanages to make themselves feel better.” Mom interjects.

“Manufactured or not, the government made human and pony relationships legal decades ago, after it was concluded that ponies share the same amount of intellect, maturity, and emotions as the average human being. There are even ponies who are a part of congress, the united nations, even the vice president is a pony.”

“Well…the government isn’t always right. Them letting you creatures into office is proof of that.”

Milky is taken aback by that comment. You see her eyes water. She shifts her sight to you and your parents, in utter amazement that you came from such monsters. The metaphorical gloves are off now.

“At least I don’t pray to a false deity.”

That fucking woke them up. Your parents look at Milky like she’s the Devil incarnate.

“What did you just say?!” Dad shouts.

That scene you didn’t want happening? It’s happening.

“You heard me. We have Celestia, Luna, and Twilight. Gods who control the sun, the moon and the stars. Pegasi who control the weather, and unicorns who can create miracles out of thin air. What do you have? A pasty face old fart with a cloak and a big beard, and as far as I’m concerned, he isn’t real!”

Your Dad’s fist clenches. You prepare to defend Milky’s honor and physical well-being.

“How DARE YOU?!” Dad shouts, “I am NOT going to be talked down to by an ugly, stupid animal such as yourself! You think you’re so righteous, sitting there in your dress, eating that meat, like you’re a human?! I have news for you, girl; you’re NOT human! You will never BE human! And you will not sit there and judge me like a human!”

“ENOUGH!” you scream at the top of your lungs, effectively silencing them. “I will not allow you to talk to Milky that way!”

“Why not?! She’s a dumb animal, like all ponies are! They belong in a farm, with the cows and the pigs!”

Milky’s eyes tear up. The words pouring through your Father’s mouth stings her like a thousand knives to the heart. That brave mare you saw minutes ago is crumbling at the words of a person you want nothing more than to pummel the shit out of.

“Don’t you say another god damn word.” you calmly say, with rage leaking from every pore in your skin.

“Don’t blaspheme!” Mom shouts, “And don’t talk to your Father that way!”

“Tell me, Son. What is this pathetic creature to you?”

Time to tell them.

“You want to know Dad? Mom? You want to know what Milky is to me? You want to know my actual opinion on this whole entire thing? I’LL FUCKING TELL YOU!”

You grab Milky by the cheeks, and pull her in for the most romantic kiss you can conjure up right then and there. Milky lets out a surprised moan, as you kiss her with such intimacy and gentleness, that she is totally into it. Time literally stops, as the two of you lock lips for what felt like eons.

Man, your parents are probably super pissed right now. You laugh on the inside.

You separate from what could possibly be the best kiss you have ever given, and look back at your red as hell parents, holding on to Milky like she is (and she really is) the best thing in your life.

“Son…you get away from that thing…this instant.” Dad fumes.

You get up from the seat, Milky in tow, ready to leave, refusing to bow down to these people.

“No, Dad.” you say, “I’m not leaving her. Not now, not ever.”

Mom and Dad get up from their seats. All eyes in the restaurant are on you four. This is one hell of a standoff.

“Son…you’re not well…” Mom says, “Just let her go, and come home with us.”

You look back at Milky. She smiles her fantastic smile. You lean in, and give her a kiss on the cheek, letting her know that it’s going to be okay. You loosen your grip on her, letting her stand on her own four hooves. Slowly, you walk over to your parents, who are mistakenly convinced that you are listening to them.

“Get out.” you whisper.

“What?” your Dad is shocked.

“Get….the….fuck…out.”

“You don’t talk to your family that way.”

“You’re not my family. You never have been.” A little harsh, but they called Milky an ugly and stupid animal; you’re going all out.

“Son…be reasonable.” Dad pleads, “You would really turn your back on us?”

“I turned my back on you a long time ago.” The words are daggers in your parents. Dad clenches his fist again.

“This is your last chance.” Dad says, about to burst, “Come home, or else.”

“Or else what? You’re going to hit me? You did that once already. Did you bring the metal ruler with you? Where did you put it? Up your ass, where it belongs?”

Your Father raises his fist, about to strike you. You prepare yourself for it. His fist comes down….

“No!” Milky shouts.

In a move that you did not see coming, Milky pushes you out of the way, and TAKES the hit for you! She falls, hitting her head against the table with a loud smack. The crowd gasps…you scream.

“MILKY!” you kneel down, cradling her.

She looks up at you, alive and conscious, but the top of her brow has been cut by the impact with the table. She smiles, whilst wincing in pain.

“Owww….” she says with a chuckle, “That really hurt.”

You smile, happy she’s okay. Your expression changes when you look up to see the mortified looks of your parents.

“Get out.” You repeat yourself.

“Son…I…” Dad trails with remorse at what he did.

“GET OUT!” you roar at them, “I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN! GET OUT OF HERE!”

Your parents stand there, not knowing what to do.

“Leave…now…” you say with a large amount of seething hatred.

Your parents leave. The room is suddenly a little less tense now. Applause from the customers echo through the restaurant at their exit. You look back down, tending to Milky.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“I’ll live.” she smirks, “Ponies have much stronger skulls than humans do.”

“I should take you to see a doctor, anyway.”

“No. I’m fine, really. It’s just a cut.”

The owner of the place returns, kneeling down to you.

“Sir? Are you and your wife okay?”

You freeze at the utterance of the word wife. You have the opportunity to correct him, she has the opportunity too. However, the both of you did something unexpected.

Neither of you corrected him.

“We’re fine.” you say, “Sorry for all the trouble.”

“Are you sure? We can call the cops on them.”

“I don’t think we’re going to see them again, anytime soon. Here…” you reach down into your pocket, “Let me pay for the meal.”

“Forget it.” he says, “It’s on the house. You go home and take care of your wife now, ya hear?” he looks down at Milky, “He’s a lucky man to have you, Milky.”

“You’re damn right he is.” she looks at you with loving eyes.

You carry Milky into the bathroom of her home, setting her down on the toilet, as you get her first aid kit. Total déjà vu.

“I’m going to clean the cut.” you tell her, dabbing antiseptic on a paper towel, “This might sting a little bit.” You put the paper towel on her, she winces in pain. “Hey, don’t be such a filly, remember?” you jest.

“That was a lip cut, this is something a little bigger.”

“You know…” your face becomes a bit more serious, with a look of regret, “You didn’t have to do that.”

She puts a hoof up on your arm, stopping you. She stares into your eyes, with tears coming out of them. Seeing her like that brings tears to your eyes too.

“I wanted to.” she says, as a tear runs down her cheek, “They’ve done enough to you.”

Those words touched you hard. Tears run down your face in response. Your words are strained, trying not to choke up.

“Milky…” you put a hand on her cheek, “I really don’t deserve you.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to deal with it. You big goofball.” she cracks a smile, still crying. You continue with tending to her cut. Once it’s cleaned, you put one of those large pony bandaids on her brow. "I can't believe people like that exist. No offense, since they're your parents."

"None taken. I assume you haven't been anywhere outside of Trottingham?"

"Oh my gosh, are they everywhere?"

"Jesus, no. There are plenty of nice people that are very religious. I knew some people at Church who were very welcoming and tolerant of this..." you point to yourself and her, "...kind of relationship. As with most religions, there's...a rare few that...take things more seriously than others, and you just met two of them." Pausing for a few moments, you shake your head with a chuckle, "But, enough about that. We're not going to make this a thing about religion. I have to say though, what you said to them? That was something."

"It was worth it to see their faces." she laughs, "By the way, you didn’t correct the guy.” she says.

“What?”

“You didn’t say that we weren’t married.”

“Neither did you.” you smirk.

“Well, being on the floor with a cut does tend to mess with thoughts and mouth functions…but I see your point.”

The two of you stay in silence. The thought seems to cross both your minds. Maybe…just maybe…

“Milky, will you…”

“No.”

“N-No?” you are shocked.

“I mean, the offer is tempting, but we’ve only known each other for two weeks.”

“We fell in love in less than two weeks.”

“Touché.” she chuckles, “Love is one thing, marriage is something else entirely.”

“True. You’re probably right. Marriage is expensive, and I’d have to get you a ring…a pony version of that, but still….”

“You’re saying that I’m not worth it?”

“Oh no, you are so worth it. I’m actually just being cheeky right now.”

“I see.” She puts a hoof on your shoulder, “Tell you what. I’ll give it two months.”

“Two months?”

“Yep. If in two months, we are as much in love as we are now, I’ll ask you to marry me.”

“Wait…you? I thought it was tradition for the guy to ask.”

“Look buddy, this relationship is unconventional already. Let’s switch things up a bit, and give me the marriage duties.”

You think about this. It sounds like a pretty good plan. You smile.

“Okay. Two months. If we still love each other, you can ask me to marry you.”

“Deal.”

You bring a hand up, stroking her mane, looking at her bandage. You chuckle at the sight. She looks pretty attractive with this look.

“You know, you look kind of sexy with a bandage on. Makes you look tough.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself. That black eye is pretty hot, if I do say so myself.”

“I can always go and get the other eye punched, and then I’ll really be irresistible.”

“No…” she leans in. Lips hovering over yours, “You look just fine.”

She goes in for another incredible kiss. You move your hands to the bottom of her dress. She lifts her forelegs, allowing you to take the dress off of her. You glance down at her teats. You chuckle.

"Hey, what do you think they would have done if they saw those?"

"You want to find out? We can follow them back home, just so I can flash them."

"No. I think they're better off not knowing. I want them out of my life, not dead."

"That's fair. Now, come here you."

You wrap your arms around her, lifting her off the toilet seat, and letting her legs wrap around your waist. Your hands caress her back, and her hooves caress yours. You separate from the kiss. As the two of you look upon one another, she puts a hoof on your cheek, slowly feeling it against her hoof.

“Make love to me.” She says softly.

“Yes ma’am.”